Something to Prove
by Sovereign and Unbroken
Summary: After a mission goes awry, Callie helps Agent Three clean himself up, and they have a discussion on what drives Three forward.


"I mean it, gramps." Callie said, "You really should check out the next Splatfest. I think you'd enjoy it. There's food, games, music, crowds of fans willing to splat each other to prove their devotion to us…"

"You make them sound like savages." Marie replied, rolling her eyes.

" _Wellllll_ …" Callie began, shrugging. "Anyway, it's a fun time, gramps. It'd help get you out of Octo-Valley for a bit."

"Now, why would I want ta _leave_ Octo-Valley?" Cap'n Cuttlefish retorted, stroking his goatee. "Someone's gotta watch this place."

"Have Lucky do it." Callie said quickly. "He wouldn't mind."

The Cap'n waved that idea off immediately. "I trust him ta splat things in the Valley, but not ta watch it in the middle of the night." The Cap'n gave a chuckle. "No offence ta the lad."

Marie barely suppressed a laugh. "And besides, you'd miss your biggest fan, Callie."

Callie glared daggers at Marie. "Ink you, Marie! I'll have you know-"

"Language!" Cuttlefish snapped, shaking his cane at Callie irritatedly.

Callie opened her mouth to defend herself, but was cut off as she heard someone pound on the door. Not a moment later, it opened, and Lucky Charm walked through the doorway, wearing his Hero Suit, and covered in splashes of fuchsia ink.

"I'm fine!" He said hurriedly, half-slurring. "I-I just gotta sit…" Lucky's words trailed off as he staggered two steps forward, before falling to his knees, and then flat on his face. His shooter clattered noisily to the floor beside him.

Callie and Marie both stood as Lucky hit the floor. Cap'n Cuttlefish snatched Callie's wrist and pulled himself up onto his feet.

"Three!" Callie shouted, quickly moving to Lucky's side and dropping to her knees beside him. "What happened to you?"

"Octolings…" he mumbled. "So many octolings…"

"Three? Three? Three!" Callie groaned, giving Lucky several light slaps just to ensure he was actually out. She sighed. "Marie, help me move him."

Marie came over, and together, they managed to get him out of his gear. Nearly everything he was wearing was filthy and battered. Shucking his headset, shooter, ink-tank, and jacket, they hauled him over to the sofa. Setting him down as softly as they could manage, they glanced at each other and shook their heads.

"Well, this sure is something." Marie said, crossing her arms.

Callie sighed. "Gramps, you have a rag or something, right? We should probably clean him up."

"Eh? Already on it!" Cuttlefish replied, hobbling over with a first aid kit and a towel in his arms.

Callie took the towel and crouched, lightly dabbing at the ink that covered Lucky's exposed skin. After a few moments, satisfied that Lucky wasn't going to inhale ink in his sleep, Callie set the towel aside and stood, resting her hands on her hips and looking down at the unconscious body before her.

Lucky wasn't unattractive, but wasn't attractive, either. Indeed, his features were so plain it hurt. Callie would be hard-pressed to pick him out in a crowd. Whenever Lucky was mentioned, all Callie could recall were blue tentacles, green eyes, and a face that was constantly grinning.

"He's pretty beat up." Marie said offhandedly.

"Yeah." Callie replied, leaning forward and carefully running a finger across a bruise on Lucky's cheek. "Those octolings did a number on him."

"Probably caught him in close quarters. He sucks at CQC."

"I keep tellin' ya, ya gotta train him!" Cap'n Cuttlefish interrupted, wagging his finger at Callie and Marie.

"He doesn't want to train with us, gramps." Callie said with a sigh. "Has to do everything _his_ way."

"Friggin' right…" came Lucky's groggy response. He groaned as he sat up, one arm moving to clench at his side. " _My way_."

" _Your_ way got your butt handed to you by a bunch of octolings." Marie said pointedly.

"They snuck up on me." Lucky hissed, trying to stand.

"You're not going anywhere. Callie chastened, putting a hand on his shoulder and holding him in his seat. "You need to rest."

Lucky scowled, but stayed seated. "I _need_ to go whoop some octo-ass…"

"Language!" Cap'n Cuttlefish scolded. "Ya whippersnappers need to watch your language."

"Sorry, Cap'n." Lucky replied, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "But, I seriously need to head back out. I _almost_ had them."

"Ya need ta rest." The Cap'n told him, thoughtfully stroking his goatee. "Ya can stay here for a little while."

"You really should get cleaned up, too." Marie added.

"I'll say." Callie said, reaching out and brushing a finger across one of the bruises on Lucky's face.

Lucky winced and slapped her hand away. "I'm fine."

Callie huffed and scowled at Lucky. "Oh? So it _doesn't_ hurt when I do this?" she asked, giving Lucky a slap on the shoulder.

He flinched and sucked in a breath. "Don't do that!"

"At least let us look at you." Callie said, crossing her arms. "You're covered in scrapes and bruises."

"I'm _fine_. I don't need to be looked at."

"Better safe than sorry, lad." Cap'n Cuttlefish said.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." Lucky replied sourly.

"Into the kitchen." Callie instructed, picking up the first aid kit and jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

"If you're good, I think I'm going home." Marie said, and she didn't wait for an answer, heading for the door. "Goodbye, gramps." And then she was gone.

"You whippersnappers keep it down." The Cap'n said with a yawn. He opened the door to his bedroom and disappeared within.

Lucky groaned and picked himself up off the sofa. At Callie's word, he shuffled into the kitchen, where Callie was already emptying the contents of the first aid kit onto the table. Without so much as glancing at Lucky, she slapped her open palm against the tabletop.

"Sit." she said.

Lucky hopped onto the table, putting his face in his hands and exhaling. "Let's get this over with." He winced as Callie pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

"Quiet, Three." Callie said, stepping in front of Lucky. "Lift your head."

She lifted both her hands, putting one under Lucky's jaw, and the other on his forehead. Tilting his head back, she lightly pressed two of her fingers against the bruise on his cheek. When Lucky winced, Callie clicked her tongue and shook her head. Her hand glided across his face, testing the sensitivity of each bruise. Lucky winced with each test, and eventually, Callie pulled her hands away with a sigh.

"You're a big baby, you know that?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. When all Lucky did was glare at her, she shook her head. "Take off your shirt."

"No." Lucky replied without hesitation. Callie scowled at him and slapped his shoulder. "Ow! Dammit, Callie, quit that!"

"Language!" came Cap'n Cuttlefish's voice.

"Shirt. Off." Callie insisted.

Lucky exhaled and slowly removed his shirt. Callie cocked an eyebrow as she saw the large bruise on Lucky's side. It was at least the size of her open hand. Further up, Callie saw the source of pain on his shoulder; a scrape, surrounded by skin that was an angry red, was starting to scab over. There were two or three more similar scrapes and bruises. Callie made a disgusted noise.

"I should probably clean these up." She said, lightly poking one. Once again, Lucky winced and sucked in a breath. "Hold still. It might sting a bit."

"I don't need this…" Lucky mumbled.

"You're right. Such a _big, strong boy_ doesn't need anyone to kiss his ouchies."

Callie smirked as Lucky huffed and looked away. With her patient silenced, Callie reached into the first aid kit and withdrew a small handful of sterilization wipes. Tearing one of the packets open, she pulled out the wipe and dabbed it lightly on the scrape. Glancing up, Callie's smirk only grew when she saw that Lucky's eyes were screwed shut.

"How long has it been since you've taken a day off?" Callie asked, scrubbing at the scrape.

"Like… two weeks..?." Lucky replied after a moment.

"You've only been an Agent for, like, three weeks."

"I got stuff to do."

"Like getting your ass kicked." Callie said quietly.

Lucky scoffed. "They _snuck up_ on me."

" _Riiiiight_." Callie suppressed a giggle, and shook her head. "You should probably take tomorrow off. Let some of these bruises heal."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Then those octolings who jumped me will think they won. I'm going back, and then I'm gonna rip 'em apart."

"Savage."

Lucky huffed again, and looked away. They stayed silent for a long while.

"Why won't you take a break?" Callie finally asked.

"I already said, I have things to do. I can't just take a day off from saving the world."

"You're hardly saving the world."

Lucky looked at Callie indignantly. "The _point_ is, I'm finally doing something that matters. I can't just take a day off while the Octarians are out there doing…" he waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever it is Octarians do."

"Have you _seen_ the Octarians? They're kind of hopeless."

"Have you ever fought a four octolings at once? Get back to me _after_ you do."

" _My_ point is, the Octarian army isn't just going to rise up while you're taking a nap. We monitor them. We _know_ what's going on." Lucky breathed out and looked away again. Callie shook her head at him. "You're moody."

"You're pushy." came Lucky's retort.

"You love being pushed."

Try as Lucky might, he couldn't help but crack a smile. "... What can I say? I'm a masochist."

Callie smiled as Lucky finally relaxed. Done with the worst of Lucky's scrapes, Callie stepped away for a moment.

"Stay there." She told Lucky. Moving around the table, she took a small towel from one of the cabinets beneath the counter, and wet a small part of it down under the faucet. She came back to Lucky, took his chin in one hand, and tilted his head so she could better see what dirt was left on his face. "Hold still. You're absolutely _filthy_."

Lucky groaned, but didn't move. "Do you baby everyone like this, or am I special?"

"Maybe if you were smarter, I wouldn't have to baby you." Callie replied, wiping at Lucky's cheek. She shifted her attentions to his lower lip. "How did you get so much dirt on your face..?"

"Some of it's blood." Lucky said after a moment. "One of 'em busted my lip."

"Of course. And you want to go _back_?"

"I can't let them think they beat me."

"But they _did_ beat you. _Literally_ and _figuratively_."

"Yeah, but they _can't_ think that." Lucky replied, and Callie knew he believed what he was saying.

"Do you have something to prove?" she asked on a whim.

"No. Maybe." Lucky sighed, finally pulling his head away from Callie's grasp. "Probably."

"What are you trying to prove?"

Lucky's brow furrowed, and he looked away. "I'm not sure. But I think it's important."

Callie frowned at him, and put her hands on her hips. "Important enough to let a bunch of octolings kick the crap out of you over and over?"

"Definitely."

"You really _are_ a masochist…" Callie sighed.

Lucky waited a moment before looking back at Callie. "We done here? I'm cold."

Callie sighed again and stepped away. "Yeah."

Lucky hopped down from his place on the table and hastily pulled his shirt back on, trying to hide the pain of the fabric brushing against his bruises. He took a moment to compose himself, before striding over to the heap where all his gear was. Lucky immediately began sorting through his things, pulling out his jacket and carefully pulling it on. Callie came over to him and snatched at his wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Callie demanded.

"Suiting up." Lucky replied as though it were obvious. "I'm heading out."

"Like hell you are!" Callie hissed quietly. "You're gonna lay down on that sofa and take a nap."

"I've _got_ to go back out."

Callie squeezed Lucky's wrist hard enough to make him wince. "No. _Agent Three_ , as your superior, I am _ordering_ you to stand down."

Lucky locked eyes with Callie, and for a moment, she thought he might challenge her. But then his shoulders slumped and he looked away. "Yes, _ma'am_."

Callie breathed an internal sigh of relief as Lucky shed his jacket once more and flopped wearily down upon the sofa. Satisfied, she peeled the rubber gloves from her hands, tossed them into the garbage, and cleaned up the first aid kit. Ten minutes later, Callie stepped out of the kitchen and looked at Lucky. His chest rose and fell evenly.

" _Oh, Lucky…_ " Callie said softly, quietly walking over to his sleeping form. She tenderly caressed his cheek, careful to avoid the bruising, and planted a kiss on his forehead, before walking to the door and stepping out into the night.

As the door closed, Lucky cracked an eye open and exhaled. He lightly touched his forehead and stared at his fingertips, before rolling onto his sigh with an exhausted groan.

"Maybe those octolings _can_ wait…"


End file.
